


Happy Birthday, Mr. President.

by TurtleJohn



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a showoff, Alex is fake vocal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, I'll tag more later - Freeform, Implied size kink, M/M, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Smut, Subtle mention of fisting, brief spanking, implied praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 21:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11170095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleJohn/pseuds/TurtleJohn
Summary: Alex sings to George on his birthday and 2k words of smut ensue





	Happy Birthday, Mr. President.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what this is. I'm ashamed of how much smut there is. I wish someone else would have written this for me.

George is on his way to liking birthdays again. It was hard, of course, to open his eyes wondering why Martha hadn’t woken him up for breakfast in bed like she used to and even harder to realise that that particular tradition had stopped being put to practice years ago. This year he woke up and felt the same jolting pain of remembering that she was dead but after fending of tears for five minutes he managed to turn over, squeeze his boyfriend's stomach lightly and go back to sleep.

When he next wakes up, Alex’s shadow towers over him, they both smile and share a small kiss. 

“Birthday sex?” Alex asks, pretending to be shy. Washington sighs softly and points out that birthday sex was most definitely something that happened at night time after the celebrations. (And if George smiles fondly when Alex groans and gets off of his stomach then nobody needs to know.)  
\---  
George has to remind Hamilton that it’s his birthday, therefore he is the one entitled to birthday sex. If anything he should be the one complaining of blue balls in the middle of a very professional event such as this staff organised party. 

Alex is basically grinding on Washington the entire damn time and people were beginning to stare at this shameless act. Lafayette did his best to distract Hamilton for the President’s sake, offering him a drink, a dance, a smoke, anything that would detach him from George’s hip but he just wouldn’t budge. 

“You aren’t normally like this whats going on Alex?” The elder was almost glaring, putting on an act to seem madder than he actually was. 

“I have something special planned, Sir, I’m just trying to keep you in the mood. Sue me.” Alex is purring. Honest to god purring. Lafayette taught him to do it, the bastard. George says nothing, just goes back into the ballroom with his emotions thoroughly hidden, leaving Alex in the bathroom. George picks a few bones with Laf but he does receive some hints about the aforementioned surprise and ‘Mr. President’ is not sure whether he should be looking forward to it or not. 

\--

Maria taught him the vocals, took a few sessions and lots of herbal teas to make Alex’s voice smooth enough but he had it down by the end of the month. Lessons had been hard to come by with Alex's workload so there had only been three, but he was ready. 

While the party dwindled down, Alex collected George from his conversation with Lafayette and Eliza. They were speaking of something boring, budget cuts on something irrelevant and Hamilton made it clear he wasn’t interested. He cleared his throat, Wrapped a warm arm around the elder man's shoulder and basically whisked him away from the ballroom and into their shared bedroom. The guards were respectfully shooed away from the door and were now situated a significantly less awkward distance from the room. 

“I’ve prepared something for you, Sir. You must not speak until if is finished. Sit, Mr. President.” 

Alex sang the way you'd expect from a man of his character. Imperfectly, sloppily and teasingly, yet he somehow has the deliberate slow timing that is needed to pull this off. He stared into Washington's soul, (or at least that's what it felt like,) and George could feels his eyes grazing his body. Half way through George was half hard, Alex was half naked and he was growing in confidence. He'd added a few verses of his own to lengthen the song a bit and create some tension.

He made his way towards the man in front of him, a man he clearly praised and respected. Worshipped, almost. He wasn't sure whether to get down on his knees-the song was almost finished and soon Alex's mouth would be free to switch up and let George make some noise- or to sit on his partner's lap, sing the last notes into his ear and let the President take the lead.

The decision he makes is not one that he puts much thought into, he had no time to playfully consider his choices longer than he already has. It is with confidence and pride that he takes the few steps that will close the gap between him and his lover and straddles him carelessly, trusting George to catch him if he fell back. George's shirt is off fast and Alex's movements are rash and inconsistent, a welcome contrast against the finishing words of the song which Hamilton sings completely out of sync to his merciless rutting. Once it's finished the pace speeds up even more and Alex is working George to full hardness through his pants as he receives nips on his neck and jawline, a silent ‘thank you’. 

Alex tilts his head back to encourage the praise even further but Washington resists temptation to mark him, what would the people say if they saw Secretary Hamilton with a purple bruise on his neck. Alex wouldn’t even hide it. He would flaunt it, showing everyone he could, taking every opportunity to tell people he's taken without even having to open his mouth. Not that his mouth would stay closed, he would blab and boast to anyone who would listen, sell the story of how he came to receive such a mark to the papers along with the name of the person who did it. He'd mark him somewhere that couldn't be seen, a trophy for no one but himself (and Lafayette, Angelica, Hercules and anybody else that Alex wanted to brag to.) Thank God one person in this relationship had self restraint. 

Washington let's his hands slip under Hamilton's already unbuttoned shirt, subtly motivating his ruts and attempting to give them a pattern, slowing them down as much as he could. Alex loves Washington’s hands, they're big and rough and no matter how gentle he was they still dragged across his skin as they glide across it. He shrugs the shirt off and kisses George caringly despite the chaos he's creating with the rest of his body and pulls away to unzip George’s pants. He leaves them on the, otherwise tidy, floor and sets to work on getting off of Washington's lap and onto his knees. 

“‘m gonna make you feel good, baby” he murmurs against a smooth patch of skin on George’s hip. George is so overwhelmed he can't really think of the words to say but he sends an unspoken message of you always do. 

Now Alex had many talents and he was prideful of them all but never has he been able to match the proud feeling of sucking cock before. With his other work he got complaints, his talents included opinions and it would be strange if people agreed on everything Hamilton said but no one ever had a bad word to say about his abilities when he was on his knees with a dick down his throat. 

He teases Washington’s thighs with kisses and until he reaches the hem of George's underwear. He buries his face in his boyfriend’s crotch through the thin material and hums against it looking for a reaction. Washington is ready to start begging for it but just as he opens his mouth he finds his underwear is being taken off and his unplanned words never leave his mouth. 

Alex takes the cock in his hand, examining the size as always, admiring the purple tint of the swollen head and finally running his thumb over George's length. And again. And again. And- George grunts. That's all Alex needed, a sign of submission, a reaction. He takes it into his mouth and relishes the feeling, saving it away for a rainy day. He takes his time swirling his tongue around the tip, cupping George's balls in just the right way and then inching himself down until he gets halfway and let's his mouth go slack. He looks up at Washington, all glossy, lustful. George can't deal with it anymore he wraps a hand in Alex's hair and waits for a nod to continue and when he gets it he tightens his grip, experimentally moves Hamilton's head and then lowers him down the the the base of this cock. 

Alex surrenders control of his own head and let's George move it how he wants. He focuses on the feeling of the tug that he feels every time George pulls him up and down until suddenly the pain is sharper than before and he finds that he is able to take a deep breath, just an inch away from the dick that was previously halfway down his throat. 

“Don't start relaxin’ now, Baby.” the words drip off of Washington's tongue like honey as he stares at the man in front of him with a sharp look in his eyes, a reminder of who's boss. 

Alex catches his breath for a minute as he thinks. It's decision time yet again, does he want to lay back and let the older man do what he wants? Or shake his ass in the air until George fucks him into the mattress? No, Alex knows his partner better than that, George doesn't want to do all the work. What he needs is a sloppy (but passionate) ride. Alex basically climbs up his body and kisses George, savouring the feeling of being held as he does so. He gasps for air as he pushes him onto his back and teases Washington with his hands.

He decides to prep himself. It's Washington's birthday, what kind of man would he be if he made him work for his present. He takes lube from under the mattress and takes position on George’s bare stomach. He puts on a good show, moaning as he slides his first finger in, he thrusts up a little bit and he moans so dramatically that it's clear it's all for show.  
George lays back and let's arousal overwhelm him, this was good, Alex new just what sounds he liked. He touches himself lazily, not really caring that he can't even see his cock as it was behind Alex. He wanted to drag this out and let his boyfriend tire himself out by performing for him. He loved this, relished in it.

Another obscene moan falls for Alexander's lips, probably one of the real ones amongst all of the sounds he was making. He's got 3 fingers in now, all slicked up. He needs 4 of his own fingers (only 3 of George's considering the size of his hands) to prepare him for Washington but he's considering skipping the last one in favour of getting his boyfriend’s dick inside him right fucking now.

He takes his fingers out and goes to sink himself down onto George but he's stopped. 

“You need another finger, unless my cock has shrunk in the last 48 hours without me realising." He spoke with intensity and warning that if he didn't stretch himself properly George would have to bend him over his lap and do it himself. It had happened before and George always took his time and with any sign of impatience he would use another finger. ( Hamilton had needed a whole hand to shut him up at least three times.)

Hamilton goes back to work, he slicks up his fingers again, four of them this time, and starts to lower himself onto them. His groan vibrates through his body and he's almost shaking with the need for this part to be over and done with. 

“Good boy. You're so good for me, baby. Keep going. That's it ride yourself, C'mon.” Hamilton's pace is remarkable, especially considering the awkward position. When he feels like his fingers have been buried in his ass long enough he pulls off of them with pride in his eyes.  
With approval, in the form of a nod, from his partner he finally moves himself down from George’s stomach and slathers his cock in lube messily, working him up a bit with his thumb and George makes a little noise of defeat that Alex was sure to describe to Lafayette at breakfast tomorrow. 

Finally Alex lowers himself onto his cock with big, rough hands on his hips as he does. He takes a minute to get used to it before starting to move. He isn't at the point of riding just yet, he's just getting a feel for it, letting George’s cock bury itself in there. 

When Alex finally begins to move properly George let's his mouth fall open and gasps at the feeling. This was truly bliss. 

George isn't one to be very vocal during sex and, much to everyone's surprise, Alex isn't either. Alex is a faker. He fake moans constantly, making his voice high pitched and feminine when he sinks onto a cock, but he never really talks. Has just too overwhelmed by the heaviness inside of him, the delicious feeling of being stretched, that no matter how many words he can think of to describe his feelings none ever pass his lips.

After he's got comfortable he starts to to move faster, rushes through it without another thought. Sex was very much about getting off to him, whereas in George's mind it was about taking your time to cherish your partner.

George grabs his hips to slow him down a bit and Alex stops, he gasps heavily to catch his breath. 

“Baby. Slow down, you don't need to rush.” Alex nods but George is unconvinced. “Right, turn over.” 

Alex's eyes widen at the feeling being empty when George eases himself out of his ass. He lays on his front, legs hanging off of the side of the bed where George was standing. An unexpected crack is heard when George's hand comes down on Alex's bare ass and the younger man is so shocked that he only moans. He receives another slap but his body was already tensed in anticipation and it had a less satisfying effect than the first one, George is already bored of it.

He lubes his cock up again, working himself a bit more than he needed to while he watches Alex's ass (one cheek bright red with a prominent hand print, the other a dusty rose,) as he had tried to get closer to George's dick. He's just whining at his partner in desperation until finally- oh god yes. George sinks into him, slow but deep. It's the complete opposite of Alex's style he considers every movement he makes, knows just where to go, exactly how deep to thrust. Nothing about this matches Alex's meaningless ruts, there's no fake moans. George grunts every now and then and Alex is lost for words- as usual when he wasn't the one ‘in control’- and just rolling his hips back every now and then, twisting his body to help George hit his prostate. 

After a few minutes Alex is already close but he refuses to cum before George, it was his birthday for God's sake, so he starts riling him up. 

“C'mon, George.” he begs, desperation leaking through his cracked voice, “Need to you cum- ahh- Please oh god”

Alex moves his hips back at a similar pace to his boyfriend’s to help him out until he feels George pull out and a string of cum makes its way across his back while George sighs in pleasure. He pumps himself through his orgasm a few shots of cum dribbling towards Alex’s ass. 

George grunts as he gets the last few drops out and Alex completely let's go. He ruts against the covers a mere four or five times before he's coming into it loudly, his sobs muffled by the pillows under his head. 

The couple can't bring themselves to care about the mess of the bed sheets, nor the mess of themselves. They use a damp towel to wipe themselves off and then they snuggle into the one of the spare blankets muttering ‘I love you’ before slipping further into each other's embrace.  
\---

They wake up to a knock at the door warning them of breakfast in 20 minutes time and they find themselves staying in the same position for at least 5 minutes. Alex is breathing evenly in George's neck and ends up drifting back to sleep and George doesn't have the heart to wake him, he slides out of bed and showers on his own, leaving a note for his sleeping lover before he makes his way to breakfast. 

Without Alex by his side, Washington hears no teasing coming from the mouths of his staff. He does receive a few cheeky glances from Lafayette and Maria ( George has no doubt in his mind that they planned this.) 

“Good Morning, Gilbert. How was your sleep?” Lafayette flashes a friendly, informal smile at George. 

“I slept well, George. And you?” Before the President can even open his mouth to respond, Lafayette speaks again. “Ah, pardon me, I forget you probably did not spend your night sleeping.” 

George’s eyes widen, mostly for dramatic effect. “Is that really an appropriate comment, Gil."

The Frenchman chuckles, ensuring that his statement was all in good jest and the rest is history. (Alex arrives twenty minutes later with wet hair and refreshed eyes.)

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment feedback! I'm totally open to constructive criticism, also please leave suggestions on what sort of fics you want to see. I'm open to basically everything other than rape, paedophilia (although I will write rp where they have a safeword) and pet play.
> 
> Betsy x


End file.
